


Runner

by amyowlett



Category: Cate Blanchett - Fandom
Genre: Cate Blanchett - Freeform, Cate Blanchett gay, F/F, Gay, Lesbian, Sarah Paulson - Freeform, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyowlett/pseuds/amyowlett
Summary: A new presence enters the unbalanced Blanchett-Upton household. Cate is exhausted, frustrated, over-worked and most of all, alone. All she had left in the world were her wonderful children.That is, however, until she hires her son's new Physics tutor, a rebellious, fiery young woman stuck in a small village with big dreams and nowhere to go.Sparks fly, but a jealous boyfriend and angry husband threaten to tear their newfound love apart.





	Runner

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first fanfiction in the Cate Blanchett community so I hope it Is sufficient lol!  
> Quick warning - there is a shit tonne of Andrew Upton bashing in this. I seem to be, unfortunately, in the minority of the Cate fandom when I say that I strongly believe Cate and Andrew are perfect for each other, and are utterly devoted to one another, completely in love. Perhaps some of us are just blinded by our love for Cate we hate on Andrew a little bit out of jealousy lol, I know I'm definitely jealous of him. That being said, this is absolutely not representative of how Andrew may or may not be in life. He is painted in my story as a manipulative, angry, controlling prick which I highly doubt is the case in real life. The same goes for all the other characters. I took real people and made them my own, and this is absolutely not here to spite or slate any celebrities.  
> Now that that's over, I hope you enjoy the story!

"I'm Andrew, by the way," said the man, his eyes warm and inviting, a strong Australian accent filtering through the coffee shop air. I smiled as he ordered the same order he always did, "Andrew Upton. I thought I ought to introduce myself seeing as I've been coming here so often."  
"Sammy." I responded with a grin.  
"Short for Samantha?" Andrew questioned. He had a slightly bulbous nose, with spiky, light brown hair, drooping eyebrows and a crooked smile. An air of kindness hung around the man and I couldn't help but be drawn to him.  
"Yep. You guessed it." I handed him his coffee and he smiled back, eyebrows raising as he spotted a tattoo on my wrist. It was shaped like a crooked E, and I held it out to him slightly.  
"A tattoo? I didn't think you were old enough!" he joked.  
"Just turned 21, actually," I winked, "but I got most of my tattoo's after turning 16." I added, gesturing to my sleeve, where ink decorated my left arm.   
"Fan of Physics?" he questioned, recognising the small symbol on my wrist.  
"Yeah." I blushed slighty, embarrassed, "It's my favourite subject. The tattoo is a Physics symbol used in equations. It essentially means 'sum' or 'total', really."  
"I like it." he grinned, his words genuine, hiding nothing behind them, something that I found was refreshing and rare. There was no one else in the queue of the more or less empty coffee shop, so I had decided to chat to him for a while as he sipped from the cardboard cup. "My son is actually looking for a Physics tutor, if you're interested."  
"Oh, yeah!" I nodded enthusiastically, dark red hair bouncing on my shoulders. Any extra income I could get was appreciated.  
"Here's my card." a small piece of paper was placed into my outstretched hand before he nodded and left the shop, as he always did at half past three on a Wednesday afternoon. It read, 'Andrew Upton - Sydney Theatre Company' alongside his number and email.  
A few weeks passed, and he hadn't come back to my work, so I forgot about it. Then, coincidentally, one Wednesday afternoon the card slipped out of my pocket. I picked it up and, on a whim, decided to call right there and then in the middle of the street.  
"Andrew? Hi. It's Sammy. Yeah, yeah, thats why I'm calling. Yeah. Great. Okay. Thank you!" I hung up the phone and, with a sense of accomplishment, continued on my way.   
Another week passed until the date he had called me in for an interview arrived. We lived in the same town, Crowborough, although it wasn't a coincidence as the coffee shop was also located there. He gave me an address two or three miles out of Crowborough, and I shifted in my jeans as my car rumbled down old country lanes.  
I had known Andrew was rich even when I had first met him, despite his casual clothes and unshaven chin. He walked with the confidence of someone who was happy and content, no unpaid bills or fines weighing down on him. The reason I picked up on that was likely just jealousy. I had never known what it was like to struggle until my father had passed away last year. Ever since then, my life had been a constant battle. His death still hung over me no matter what I did.   
However, when I came to the conclusion that Andrew was rich, it had not occured to me just how rich.  
A towering, red-bricked Victorian Manor sat above me on a hill, looking down imperiously as I pulled up on the circular driveway. It was three floors, and the front of the house was covered in symmetrical windows like hundreds of eyes staring me down. It was not the most attractive house, despite how much what was essentially a mansion must have cost. Random sections of building jutted out from the sides of the house, one side circular like a lighthouse, the other side at an odd angle, almost a hexagon shape. Yes, it was an odd house. However, it was beautiful, in it's own, quaint, English way.  
A small sigh escaped my mouth. I had tutored bratty, rich kids before and this time would likely be no different. Andrew seemed like a lovely guy, though, and I needed the money.  
I rapped sharply on the tall, black, oak double doors and they swung open as Andrew shook my hand gently and let me in.   
"Is that the tutor, Andrew, dear?" came a soft, lilting voice. It held hints of an Australian accent smothered presumably by years of living in England, and it wafted gently down the double staircase like a breath of fresh air.  
"Yes, she's here." Andrew responded, and the woman that appeared at the top of the grand quite easily took my breath away, stealing the very oxygen I needed to survive. She wore, very simply, white, baggy linen trousers and a beige button up shirt tucked into them, the sleeves rolled up. Golden hair rested easily on her strong, broad shoulders like a halo and she regarded me with a smile that held an air of practised indifference.  
"Hi. I'm Sammy." I said confidently, despite the fact that I was sure my knees were about to buckle. The blonde woman descended the stairs as if walking down from heaven itself, holding out a delicate hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs Upton." I said. His wife paused for a second, as if she was surprised by something, but quickly moulded her features back into the same mask of indifference she had held before.  
"Mrs Upton. Yes. That's me." the blonde said oddly, before turning to her husband, "Hmm. She's perfect." Mrs Upton said, cocking her head to the side.   
"My wife will be doing the interview, as I have some buisness to attend to." Andrew nodded and turned, ambling away. I found myself under the blonde's icy gaze once more, as it became apparent that I was finding it incredibly difficult to look into her terrifyingly blue eyes without my knees giving away.  
"Follow me." Mrs Upton said, and I did as she requested as we travelled into the depths of the home. It was much nicer on the inside, the decorations homely yet tasteful, art and family photographs adorning the walls. Dark, leather furniture and bright, white walls contrasted each other, which led to a comfortable but clean atmosohere, and I found myself relaxing slightly as we entered a bright kitchen. It was not particularily sunny today, due to it being typical English weather - cold and miserable - but the kitchen was open and inviting. "Have a seat." she muttered, so I took one at the marble island counter. The surface was black marble to match the tiles, the cupboards white. A wooden beam ran along the length of the ceiling and a large wooden table sat behind me, overlooking a thin, flat rectangular garden and a hill sloping upwards towards a lush forest.  
"Thank you for this opportunity," I began, feeling slightly out of place. The heating seemed to be up at full blast, so I peeled off my leather jacket, leaving me sat in my dark brown vest top and black skinny jeans. "I would love to help your child out with some Physics." Mrs Upton flicked the black kettle on and gazed absentmindedly out of the window. I followed her eyeline and caught her eyes staring at me through the reflection of the window, my dark red, dyed hair catching in the light. Embarrassed, she looked away, focussing on the steam rising out of the kettle.  
"How terribly rude of me," she mused, "I haven't offered you any tea." the blonde turned to me as I quickly scrapped any preconceptions about the woman. She came across as a rich, not to mention gorgeous, organised if not controlling housewife. Instead, she appeared to be slightly forgetful, pottering about the kitchen, mumbling to herself. "Would you like some?"  
"Uhh... Nah. I mean, no. No thank you."   
"Okay." she giggled, turning back to pour the boiling water into a mug.   
"I'm a really good teacher, I've tutored kids in all three Sciences and Maths before, and they all passed with grades B and above, and-"  
"Okay, you're hired. Congrats." Mrs Upton shrugged ungracefully, giving me a thumbs up.  
"Wha-"  
"Oh, and call me Cate, darling." the blonde laughed her own melody, a gentle hand brushing across my shoulder as she passed me to stand by the floor to ceiling windows at the other side of the room, sipping her tea. I shivered. "Mrs Upton is so... stuffy."  
"I could be a serial killer, and you just hired me. Just like that." I laughed.  
"Well, are you?" Cate laughed again, and I couldn't help but smile myself. Her whole face lit up when she laughed, and I couldn't help but find myself drawn to her, like a fly caught in her web.  
"Nah. Definitely not." I shrugged.  
"Oh, what a shame," she grinned, "I'm getting tired of work. It would be nice to have a break, however indefinate."  
"You work?" I was surprised, having assumed she was just some sort of trophy wife.  
"Yes." she frowned and smiled, that look of surprise flickering across her features once more. "I work. Quite a lot actually," she waggled her finger at me, "I'm the main breadwinner of this family, I'll have you know!"  
"Ooh, sorry, hit a nerve, have I?" I joked, before suddenly realising what I had said. We were not on those terms yet. I barely knew the woman, and deeply hoped she hadn't taken offense at my jokes.  
"Oh, fuck off!" Cate laughed, causing my mouth to fall open in shock, "Yes, sorry, I swear like an Aussie trucker, I need to stop, I have young impressionable kids, blah blah blah." Cate rolled her eyes and turned back to the windows as it was my turn to laugh.  
"I'm not saying anything." I grinned in response. My eyes flickered down to her soft, pink lips as the steam from her tea wafted to the ceiling and the blonde breathed it in, a delectable, content smile on her chiselled face. I watched casually as Cate wandered back over to the bronze, oddly oval-shaped sink where she rinsed out her mug and left it on the counter.   
"Follow me!" she announced for the second time that afternoon, and once more I was being led through the beautiful home, which as I paid closer attention, realised was slightly cluttered, mostly dotted with toys, hoodies and stacks of books and paper. "The housekeeper is ill." Cate had simply explained.  
We soon arrived in book-filled study, painted in a chic dark grey and adorned with numerous family photos.  
"This is Dashiell." Cate smiled proudly as she whipped out a dark brown, expensive looking wallet and revealed a small, crumpled photo of a teenager with light blonde hair, soft, slightly chubby cheeks, electric blue eyes that matched his mothers and a slightly grumpy, yet cute smile.  
"He has your eyes." I said with a grin.   
"So I've been told." Cate smirked, "All my boys look like Andrew, though. To say he has dominant genes would be an understatement." Cate laughed then, and I realised it was something I wanted to hear for the rest of my life.   
"Lucky they don't have your memory." I commented, watching as Cate frowned and began to search in a cluttered drawer for something.  
"You're funny." she retorted sarcastically, although the corners of her mouth twitched upwards in a smile. "Ah-ha!" She brandished a piece of paper in the air proudly.  
"Well done. You found it." I chuckled.  
"I did indeed. You need to sign this." Cate took a seat behind a large, oak desk, placing the sheet in front of me alongside a fancy fountain pen.  
"A... disclosure contract thingy? Why do I have to sign this?" I questioned, surprised.  
"Well, my- sorry, Andrew's, job is very much in the public eye. It's just to make sure you aren't a reporter, or anything." Cate shrugged but there was an edge to her tone as she watched me with an acute precision. Shrugging, I picked up the pen, signing my name on the dotted line.   
"There ya go. Feels like fifty shades of grey." I handed her the paper, only realising what I had said a moment later as my cheeks flushed crimson and Cate looked up in surprise before her expression morphed into one of mischevious pleasure.  
"That would certainly make things more interesting." the blonde drawled. Her stud suddenly felt oppresively stuffy. "Right, glad that's out of the way, I'm terribly sorry for the theatrics," Cate grinned broadly, "I've had a reporter go undercover as my housekeeper before, or try to, at least. It was about ten years ago, now. She didn't find out much," Cate rolled her eyes, "The article was never published, I got it shut down. It mostly just rambled about how much I loved my son and my dogs," she stood up, "As you can imagine, very salacious." she laughed, "But yes, you can understand why we have to take precautions. I hope that it is okay with you."  
I shrugged again. "Yeah," fiddling with my nose ring, I sat back in my chair, "Don't see why it wouldn't be."  
"Wonderful." Cate said. We began a conversation on the World Cup after a newspaper displaying a headline about it caught my eye, and she spoke of her dislike of football - 'It's utterly boring, I can't understand why people are so obsessed with it' - before we moved to deeper topics, such as her children. Then, eventually, to me. Surprisingly, my least favourite topic. "So what brings you here, Sammy, darling?" she questioned. Sometime during our conversation we had gravitated to sitting beside eachother in the loveseat in the corner of the room, and I shuddered at our close proximity.  
"Oh, not much." I smiled, "Lived here since I was 11. Left school a few years ago, dropped out of uni - it wasn't really for me. Now I work in the coffeeshop, where I met Andrew. That's kinda it."  
"Something tells me that you've missed out quite a few things in your little... story." Cate contemplated as I grimaced slightly. There was something in her gaze that made me feel as if she could see right through me. "You're incredibly bright. There are plenty of jobs for people with talents in the Sciences. Why a coffee shop?"  
"It pays the bills?" I shrugged, and Cate seemed to realise the conversation was closed, deciding to move on. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as I realised we had been talking for hours, not noticing how the time had flown by.  
"I have a friend coming over later." the Australian said all of a sudden, "Andrew is going out with the kids after picking them up from school so you won't have a chance to meet Edith and my boys, unfortunately. You're welcome to stay for dinner, though." she winked at me and I swallowed, confused as to how just being in the same room as the enigmatic woman made me terrified, unable to form a coherent sentence - but also with a strong desire never to leave her company. Cate was so deliciously warm and inviting.   
I imagined she didn't have many guests over that weren't long time friends, as she came across as an incredibly private person. The idea of a new person in her home probably excited her, which I presumed was why she let me stay for as long as I had. However, I knew already I had a surprising, if not worrying, amount of trust in the Australian. I wondered if maybe she felt this way too, and that was instead why she asked me to stay.  
"Oh, I wouldn't want to be any trouble, I should really head home-"  
"Nonsense!" Cate laughed, her voice loud and joyous, "You will love my friend, she seems to have a similar sense of humor to yours. I do hope the both of you don't turn against me." Cate chuckled salaciously and stood as the sound of a doorbell rang out.  
"She's here?" I exclaimed, brushing imaginable lint from my jeans and vest top as I gulped and followed Cate out of the study. Any close friend of Cate had to be rich, influential and probably upper class. The type that often looked down on me. The type that I strongly disliked and often had nothing in common with. I knew I could leave if I wanted to. All I had to do was say so and I would be in my car on the way home, no care in the world. But I also knew there was a terrible lump in my throat that began to grow at the mere thought of voluntarily leaving Cate's company.  
Cate found a pair of bright green slippers discarded on the floor and pulled them on, hopping on one foot in a surprisingly ungraceful gesture as we entered the hallway. The front door swung open, revealing a slender, short-haired, brunette woman. She appeared to be wrapped up in several layers of clothing with a neon pink bobble hat rammed on her head, a soft, American accent filling the hallway as she paid me no notice and began tugging off her boots.  
"I don't know why you chose to live here, Blanchett, I really don't. Even New York is warmer than this." she grumbled, "Here's Ediths hat." I recognised the name of Cate's daughter, "It's surprisingly warm." the woman chucked the hat at the blonde's face and smirked as Cate caught it just in time with a deadly glare.  
"Lovely to see you too, Paulson." Cate drawled. 'Paulson's' shoes were off now, and she cackled in delight before embracing Cate in a bear hug. She stilled slightly as our eyes connected over Cate's shoulder and she pulled away.  
"Cate," the brunette stage-whispered, "There's a woman behind you."  
"Oh, no way." Cate retorted dryly.  
"She's staring at me. Should I say something? Or should we just run? I'm really tired. I don't fancy running. Mind sacrificing yourself?" 'Paulson' widened her eyes dramatically, continuing to whisper.  
"Sammy, meet Sarah Paulson. Sarah, meet Sammy."  
"Um... hi Sarah. Nice to, um, meet you." I shifted slightly, uncomfortable under the admittedly attractive womans gaze, "Are you American?"  
"No." she evidently lied.  
"Canadian?" I decided to play along.  
"No." Sarah laughed.  
"Jamaican/Scottish/Japanese?"   
"Nailed it." Sarah leant forward and gave me a childish high five. "I like her!" she announced before striding into the kitchen, leaving Cate and I to follow. The hallway suddenly went dark as Cate turned off the light and we left, the only other light from the doorway two rooms across where Sarah stood in the kitchen.  
"Sorry. She's very full on." Cate smiled, whispering. There was a hint of admiration in her voice, and I realised her and Sarah must be extremely close. Any protestations against her words died on my lips as I felt a warm hand on my back, guiding me towards the kitchen. It felt almost familiar, as if it was meant to be there, but also wholly unsettling as it sent shivers up my spine. I frowned at my reaction.  
I absolutely could not believe that within hours of meeting the woman I began to question my own sexuality. I had never, ever looked at another woman that way, but I would be lying if I said the very thought of Cate didn't set my senses alight like a burning, spitting, crackling log fire. Perhaps I wasn't straight then. Or perhaps it didn't matter. Perhaps it was just Cate, perhaps that was just it, there was no label for it. I was attracted to Cate, regardless of gender identity. There was no denying she was an incredibly attractive woman. That was the only thing about her I seemed to know for certain.


End file.
